


A Road Not Taken

by andveryginger



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Chiss, F/M, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-02-28 04:43:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13263948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andveryginger/pseuds/andveryginger
Summary: A discovery in the aftermath of Copero complicates matters even further. (IA x NPC//Adela x Saganu)





	1. Impulse

**Author's Note:**

> Before "Traitor Among the Chiss" was announced, I’d already started toying with a Chiss political arc, weaving around Adela and Saganu as their more personal story unfolded. This background can be found in my other story, ["Unfinished Business."](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12339786) Now, after TATC, Saganu's appearance there, and the recent interview with Charles Boyd and Tim Zahn that hinted we might see more Chiss content in the new year -- let's just say that Adela now finds herself in much the same situation as Annya, waiting to see which way the story breaks with her NPC love interest. She is not, however, acting as Outlander here, but rather as an intelligence operative for the Alliance.
> 
> Features a non-Outlander Adela, who is more than happy to leave that dubious honor with her sister.
> 
> I don't consider this headcanon as yet, even if the muses are leaning that way. It remains an exploration of a “what if,” that my Adela!muse was just as curious to examine. Apologies in advance for the dwama. ;)
> 
> Posted sans beta, with only personal edits.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adela and Saganu have... a moment... immediately following the events on Copero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Non-Outlander agent, and builds on the headcanon that Adela and the Aristocra have had an affair that morphed into something much more. 
> 
> For more in-depth background, see "Unfinished Business."

They said nothing as the shuttle climbed out of the atmosphere, silence almost palpable despite the background noise of the engines, consoles, and life support systems. The rosy light of sunset gave way to the darkness of space and Adela watched as Saganu tapped a few commands into the navicomputer. He was the picture of Chiss control, hands moving smoothly across the controls, but she knew better: A maelstrom of relief, concern, frustration – no, _anger_ – and a touch of fear swirled beneath the surface.

She cast a sidelong glance to Lana, who nodded imperceptibly. “Lieutenant Temple,” she began slowly, “would you mind very much helping me set up an encrypted transmission to Odessen? I’ll need to modify the algorithm slightly to avoid those Theron is familiar with.”

“O-of course.” Raina looked to first to Adela, then to the Sith with a furrowed brow. She shook her head and stepped toward the back of the shuttle. “If you’ll follow me…” Lana passed another glance to the former Imperial agent, then followed her.

Another long moment of silence passed between the Aristocra and his unofficial consort. It was finally Adela who spoke up, her voice quiet, concerned. “Are you all right?”

Saganu said nothing. He engaged the autopilot and sat for a beat, still, his hands resting on the arms of the chair. Suddenly, the Aristocra was on his feet, sweeping forward to close the distance between them. His hands came to rest on her hips, his mouth crashing against hers as he guided her backward.

Her initial response was instinctive – lips parting as his tongue slid against hers, arms sliding over his shoulders. The storm of his emotions surged, her Force connection amplifying the effect, leaving her dizzy as he conveyed so much with the intensity of his kiss. It was not until her back forcibly met the bulkhead behind them that she broke away. She blinked repeatedly, forcing her vision back into focus. Her voice emerged as a panting whisper. “Darling, we shouldn –”

“I’m sorry,” his voice rumbled. His breath was hot on her face, chest against hers, and hips falling into line. “I’m sorry to ask so much of you, beloved.” He swallowed, red eyes troubled as his gaze traced her features. “You didn’t have to.”

Adela gave a taut smile. “As your consort,” she replied, the words formed against his lips, “I did. I would have been remiss…” She paused, nipping briefly at his lower lip before drawing back before continuing, “in my duty and devotion…” Dragging her lips across his, she grinned as his fingers tightened against her hip and he gave a low groan. “…had I not.” She shook her head. “I had to protect you, beloved, as you’ve protected me.”

“She could have killed you,” he murmured. “This plan could have gone so terribly wrong.” His lips pinched at her jaw, her ear, her neck. “But here you are. Living – breathing – so warm…”

A gasp escaped her as his mouth found her pulsepoint. Heat surged to her core, fingers raking through his hair. “…and getting warmer.” She drew a deep breath, attempting to pull herself back from the emotions and arousal running rampant through her. “We can’t do this here, darling…”

“Aristocra, I – oh!”

The familiar voice of Raina Temple reached them, looking up as the petite lieutenant appeared around the corner. Her eyes were wide, and Adela sensed her discomfort well before the Force adept was able to smother it. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, cheeks darkening. “I didn’t –”

Saganu stepped back from Adela, clearing his throat and smoothing his hand over his hair. Adela allowed her gaze to drift  below his waistline and she was thankful – for both their sake – that his tunic covered the very obvious reaction she had sensed only seconds before. “It’s quite all right, Lieutenant,” he managed. “It is, perhaps, a conversation best left until we return to Odessen.”

“Conversation,” said Lana, now approaching behind Raina. “Yes, I’m certain that’s what it was.” A wry grin curved her lips as she folded her arms across her chest. “Our arrival is arranged. We’re expected before morning.”

Adela swallowed, nodding as she combed her fingertips through her hair, forcing stray strands back into the tight, upswept bun. It had been decades since she had been so thoroughly flustered, and yet she still felt a burn rush up the back of her neck. She was, she suspected, more embarrassed for the Aristocra than herself. It was rare for him to act so impulsively, especially with others so close by. “Thank you, Lana,” she replied. “I’ll… if you’ll pardon me…”

“Yes, of course,” the Sith replied. She looked to Saganu. “Actually, I _am_ qualified in this model. I believe Lieutenant Temple and I can keep things under control, if you both would prefer to take a few moments.”

The Aristocra paused, lips pursed. His red-eyed gaze flickered briefly to Adela and back again. She sensed the moment his decision was made. “I do believe that would be appreciated, Director Beniko,” he replied. He bowed his head slightly. “Thank you.”

Lana said nothing, instead stepping and trading places with him. He cleared his throat again, then headed down the corridor, his cape billowing with the movement. It was as Adela turned to follow that she finally spoke. “Tell me, Lieutenant,” she said, “about this training program you developed for the Miurani phalanx.”

Within moments, Raina had been distracted onto a new topic, even as Adela, herself, caught up with the Aristocra. It seemed she would owe the Sith more than a few favors by the time they returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This particular segment started as an ask prompt on Tumblr from my friend, StoryKnitter: "In The Moment Kiss: Maybe it’s in the middle of an argument or you just looked to damn beautiful not to kiss, but their lips were hot against yours and it felt too good to stop." Having just completed Copero with Adela (Annya has yet to run Umbara for _reasons_ ), she and Saganu won out for the response.
> 
> It then morphed into something of an AU.


	2. On The Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cards are on the table. Now Tabarin and Saganu must decide how to play them in the aftermath of Copero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted hot off the presses, so without beta and minimal editing. If you see something too glaring, tag me.

Night settled over Csaplar as Aristocra Tabarin, House Nuruodo, returned to his apartments, unwrapping the white and bronze cloak from his shoulders, even as the door slid closed behind him. His staff dismissed for the evening, he placed it on the nearby hook himself, turning down the corridor toward his study. He took a deep breath. What was that aroma, he wondered. His brow furrowed. Was that… _caf_?

The aroma grew stronger as he approached the study, and a soft strain of music could finally be heard, filtering through the playback system. It was Human music – unique arrangements with percussion and stringed instruments as the primary focus. Slow tempo, the strings wailed an almost mournful tune, percussion soft behind it, keeping time. He knew before entering that he would find his cousin, Aristocra Saganu, House Miurani, there.

Seated at the worktable, the younger Aristocra held a datapad in his left hand, others scattered across the surface. His attention, however, was focussed on the steaming cup of caf in his right as it rested on the table. The corners of his mouth were turned down, brow creased as he stared at the dark liquid. He gave a slight start as Tabarin entered, moving to rise. “Cousin…”

Tabarin shook his head, waving his hand to indicate his cousin could remain seated. He then joined him at the table, idly glancing at the datapads. The one closest to him contained an after action report submitted from Lieutenant Raina Temple, Chiss Expansionary Defense Force. Next to it, a report forwarded from the former Imperial intelligence agent now serving as an Alliance Intelligence operative, Adela Emrys.

He eyed his cousin, allowing a slight glint to his gaze as he did so. “The Council was most impressed with Commander Emrys’ understanding of our political machinations,” he said finally. “I led them to believe she had been coached by yourself and Lieutenant Temple, in route to Copero. But I reviewed the surveillance videos. She didn’t hesitate; didn’t question. She knew exactly what had to be done.”

Saganu narrowed his eyes briefly at Tabarin, a question unspoken. “I’ve said before that she is an exceedingly quick study.”

Tabarin reached, picking up the datapad containing the Alliance report, scrolling through it absently. “It saved you from tribunal,” he continued. “It also gave us a united, external focus, delaying – if not halting – a potential political war among the Ascendancy.” He paused, pursing his lips. “They are actions worthy of merit adoptive status to your house or mine.”

“But given that she is the external focus,” the junior Aristocra replied, “you dare not offer her such status while she is currently – what is the Imperial term? _Persona non grata_ , I believe.”

“ _You_ could have offered her such years ago… yet you didn’t.”

“It is… complicated.” Saganu drew a deep breath, exhaling heavily. His eyes diverted to his caf. “I could not offer her a place in my house for reasons I cannot discuss. It was my hope that she would gain your favor.”

“Yes, I suppose it might have created quite the stir, choosing one of your own merit adoptives as your consort,” Tabarin said. He regarded his cousin with an arched brow. “It might cause the Council to question your motives in doing so. Much better to allow me to take her into _my_ house and then make a show of courting her.”

“Cousin –”

The senior Aristocra held up a hand to silence Saganu. “There’s no need for further deception, Cousin,” he said. “I know. I’ve known since the beginning.”

Saganu sat back in his chair and took a long draw of his caf, watching Tabarin over the rim of the cup. Lowering it, he gave a rueful half-smile. “How?”

“An anonymous tip had me following you all the way to Zeltros.” Tabarin placed the datapad back onto the table. “I must admit the first three days were exceedingly boring. When she first walked into that cantina that night, and you followed, I thought, perhaps, this was a curiosity – something to explore and get out of the system.” He sighed. “And then I realized it had been over eighteen months since you had last seen her; that you had planned everything to the last detail. I knew then that she was more than a curiosity.”

Lacing his fingers together at his waist, elbows resting on the arms of the chair, he regarded Saganu. “You go out of your way to work with her, to stay with her, first on that soggy rock, and then Odessen. Very logical, yes, but nothing wrong with pairing a little pleasure with business, hm? And Tasconu – the way he defers to her? Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

A long moment of silence followed during which Tabarin could almost see the contemplation rolling through his cousin’s mind. Finally, he asked, “Does Santasi know?”

Tabarin shook his head. “He suspects. I’ve ensured that he’s been unable to confirm said suspicions,” he replied, “though it helps that you’ve been largely discreet.”

“I have attempted to be so.” Saganu drained the last of his caf, placing the empty cup onto the table. He then looked to his cousin with a serious expression. “We… have exchanged vows, Cousin.”

“ _Ktah_.” The senior Aristocra clenched his hands to fists in frustration before dropping them to strike the arms of the chair. His fingers splayed and he gesticulated as the emotion sought an outlet. “Always the risk taker, aren’t you?”

“It was one aspect of our relationship that was not planned,” his cousin answered. If he was taken aback by the exclamation, it did not show. “A very… organic… development, as it continued.”

“Yet now, after her actions on Copero – despite them being of significant benefit to the Ascendancy, I cannot welcome her into House Nuruodo anytime soon.” Tabarin sighed, the exhale long and slow, almost a growl. “And _you_ will be watched like a hawk for the near future – by Inrokini, especially. They’ll be looking for _any_ reason – ”

“ _I am aware, Cousin._ ”

Each word was clearly enunciated, jaw tense, and Tabarin blinked. It the first time in many years he had heard such emotion from the younger Chiss. Anger and frustration flashed in the familiar red eyes, and he could see the tension coiling in his frame. “She has taken steps I, myself, would not have taken – steps well beyond her _own_ ethics – and she has taken them _for me_ ,” he declared. “And now I cannot offer an _alliance_ , much less the comfort of my company as her right and proper mate.”

He pushed himself out of the chair, stalking to the window opposite the table. Tabarin watched him in the reflection, noting the way in which his jaw worked, prominence at his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “My duty to the Ascendancy requires my presence and continued patience, while my duty to my _En’von’ot_ practically demands my exile.” His attention dropped to the lower portion of the window frame before looking back up to the freezing night beyond. “I know that the Ascendancy must come first, but I find myself unable to make that choice.”

The ranking Aristocra sat, observing – thinking – as the silence stretched between them, a frown distorting his features. It was, indeed, an untenable situation. For himself, his cousin, all Chiss – the Ascendancy must come first, with Houses and Family a very closely-connected second and third; personal pursuits were not considered. His cousin’s affair with Adela Emrys was an intensely personal pursuit that had slowly morphed to one of House and Family. He had made himself complicit with his silence, that night on Zeltros. Passive as that may have been, action would now be required, endangering his House along with that of his cousin.

“Had she not executed Syndic Zenta on Copero,” Tabarin began slowly, “her actions certainly would have merited her adoption. Conversely, had she not executed Zenta, then we would be in no position to do so.” He drew a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “We will begin to rehabilitate her standing with the other Houses. We will never win Inrokini, but as long as they remain out of favor, their opinions will count little. It will not be fast, but it will allow us to – at some point – come back to the regard with which we truly hold her.”

Saganu turned, opening his mouth to speak, but Tabarin continued. “I will also find some excuse for your absence – soon – and ‘Lieutenant Kal’ will have the opportunity to return briefly to Odessen.”

“Tasconu will lend assistance where necessary, as will Lieutenant Temple. Both have assisted in the past.”

“Of that, I’m certain,” Tabarin said. “But we must be sure that Santasi does _not_ discover our machinations. While he is excellent in protecting House Nuruodo, I feel he would be… _overzealous_ … and use the information to your detriment.”

Lips pursed, Saganu nodded. “Agreed.” He drew a cleansing breath, closing his eyes briefly. Tabarin watched as his shoulders resumed their proper position, and the lines around his eyes and mouth relaxed slightly. “Thank you, Cousin.”

“Don’t thank me until she can be _properly_ addressed.” The senior Aristocra frowned. “Life will be quite treacherous until then.”


	3. A Quiet Nudge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A whisper called to her from the bliss of sleep.

A whisper called to her from the bliss of sleep - - a quiet nudge, followed by ripple of warmth as Adela Emrys blinked slowly to consciousness. She was surrounded by darkness, but did not panic: Not only was she greeted by the familiar shadows of her quarters, but she was surrounded by the usual background clutter, dominated by the steady hum of the powerful air cooling unit.  All around her, she could sense the ever-present light - - and dark - - of Alliance personnel. They slept and ate and read and worked, all as normal. Even her sister, the Alliance commander was resting, not reaching out to her in the Force. What, then, had stirred her awake?

She rolled onto her side, leg sliding over the centerline of the bed even as her hand reached for the cool, empty space beside her. Closing her eyes, she could almost sense him, the lukewarm temperature of his body, the smooth contours of his broad chest, heart beating beneath her hand, his leg solid against hers. She could even sense the twisting, grey-white thread of light that was his signature in the Force, the one that identified him as Aristocra Saganu.

His mind was troubled, his body tense as frustration, longing, and isolation washed over him. It was then, as she reached into the Force to try and soothe her Aristocra, to let him know that he was not alone, that she missed him, that she loved him, that she felt it again: That quiet little nudge to her Force connection.

Drawing back, she traced the narrow tendril as it slid along her own. It seemed to be reaching, seeking that of the Aristocra, as well. She frowned. It was certainly narrow enough to be Temple, but she knew what the adept looked like, how she felt in the Force. This was something different, narrow but stronger, brighter. Almost like she and Annya when - -

Her hand slipped over her abdomen, curving slightly as she brought it to rest just below her navel. Reaching tentatively into the Force, she then eased along the tendril to the source. It greeted her with the same warmth that awakened her, stirring with acceptance and love and joy.

_Oh._

She swallowed back the knot that lodged in her throat, eyes stinging as the warmth of tears swarmed them. _My precious little one,_ she thought at the tiny flutter. Her heart soared even as uncertainty and apprehension settled lower. They had discussed children… in the abstract. Even then, the subject had only been broached because of his cousin’s pending nuptials and the possibility of their offspring. Neither he nor Adela were in a hurry for their own; children seemed counter-intuitive to what was, they reasoned, still a clandestine affair.

That had been two years ago and little had changed since that time. If anything, their situation was worse, following events on Copero. The public ire of the Ascendancy was focussed on her, despite any promises of personal support, farther now from the possibility of merit adoption into House Nuruodo than even three months previous. Any plans for public courtship and marriage automatically stalled with it.

Adela drew her index finger across her right cheekbone, wiping at the tear that tickled her cheek. Her Aristocra would welcome a child, would love it as he could; they had discussed as much. But why now, she wondered, after so many years together?  Why, when the cost would be _catastrophic_ for him? He could lose his position with the Defense Force, his House, and his Family could be shamed.

Even avoiding such a fate, she currently had no idea when she would see him next. House Inrokini and other assets were keeping a close watch. They waited and hoped for the slightest slip, a chink in the armor they could exploit. He had only just returned to station on Hoth, following an investigation by the Council and forced residence on Csilla. The rendezvous on Zeltros had ceased; his “assignment” to Odessen was paused until further notice. He could afford no chance of observed impropriety.

… which also carried over to their holocalls. Their cover story - - of being longtime friends - - at least permitted calls at fairly regular intervals. But topics were casual; they discussed mundane matters and open source items. They couldn’t risk even encrypted assignations. The Chiss, as a whole, were far too well-versed at codebreaking.

None of the circumstances, however, could change how much she missed him… especially now.

Curling in, Adela embraced herself and the child, forcing herself to breathe deeply and slowly. The child was wanted and loved; he - - or she - - would face enough politicking and trauma outside the womb, regardless of whether or not they favored their father. She shook her head. No, the nascent little flutter would know that happiness and joy and peace as long as possible. She would ensure it.

 _Now, my precious little one,_ she thought, _we have to figure out how and what to tell your father…_


	4. An Admirable Charade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three months following the events on Copero, Aristocra Tabarin and Aristocra Saganu make a return to Odessen.

Aristocra Tabarin, House Nuruodo, cast a sidelong glance to his cousin Saganu, Aristocra of House Miurani, as they stood before the hatch of the shuttle. The latter had changed, dressed as his undercover persona of “Lieutenant Dul’skala’nuruodo.” The dark uniform was starkly different for him; swapping white for black and with it, the prominence of command for the anonymity of a junior officer. Still trimmed in gold, it fit more snugly than his typical choice, and did not accommodate his usual floor-length cape.

Other changes were present, as well. They were less easily defined, but Tabarin could see that in this persona, his cousin strained against the strictures of the very Ascendancy he represented: tugging absently at his collar, holding himself too stiffly, even when addressing his own cousin. Even now, though he projected the calm demeanor of an Aristocra, Saganu’s hands betrayed him – they were constantly moving, his fingers flexing, readjusting the fit of the tailored leatheris gloves and smoothing non-existent wrinkles in his tunic.

He was anxious, of course. This would be his first return to Odessen since the disaster of Copero, some three months previous. He had borne the strain of constant observation and suspicion exceedingly well; he parried the political attacks with aplomb and amusement. The absence of his chosen consort, however, had been considerably more taxing. He masked it well, forcing the occasional smile and hiding behind his command demeanor. But in the evenings, as they talked over intelligence reports and sometimes dinner, Tabarin had noted the distant gaze over the frozen horizon, the constant aroma of caf wafting over the study as they worked. A few careful questions allowed him to realize how much his cousin sought advice, insight, and simple companionship from the human agent, even beyond the physical intimacy he knew they shared. Stilted, open holocalls would never suffice.

Suddenly aware of his attention, Saganu straightened and cleared his throat. “Aristocra?”

Tabarin offered him the faintest flicker of a smile, then gestured to the hatch. “By all means, Lieutenant,” he said. “I’m sure there are some here anxiously awaiting our arrival.”

“Of course, Aristocra.” Smoothing a hand down the front of his uniform, Saganu then keyed the release. The hydraulics hissed, the sound largely absorbed by the comfort of the passenger compartment. Daylight traced the edges of the ramp, the world outside slowly revealed as it descended.

Members of the Nuruodo phalanx disembarked first, taking position as he approached. Lieutenant Raina Temple stood beyond, flanked herself by a small security detail of two former Republic and Imperial troopers. A warm smile brightened her features, dark brown eyes alight. “Aristocra, Lieutenant,” she said. “A pleasure to see you both.”

Saganu returned the smile. “And you, Lieutenant,” he replied. His fingers flexed again. “I trust you’re doing well?”

“Perfectly well, sir,” the petite officer replied. She paused, looking to Tabarin. A sidelong glance to her Aristocra, however, showed she was technically addressing him, instead. “Agent Emrys sends her apologies. She regrets that she couldn’t be here when you arrived, but will be joining us as soon as she can.”

In his periphery, Tabarin noted a flickering crease in his cousin’s brow. “I hope all is well?” he asked. He, also, had expected the consort to be present when they arrived.

“Of course, sir,” she said. “Just a routine appointment that’s run a bit long.” The falter in her smile was almost imperceptible, blending into the movement as she turned. “Ah, there she is now.”

The ranking Aristocra followed her gaze, watching as the agent in question emerged from the passageway, silver hair and billowing grey duster standing out against the dark metalwork of the hangar. She acknowledged him first. “Aristocra,” she said, “it’s my honor to welcome you to Odessen.”

Tabarin bowed his head in greeting. He studied her features carefully, surprised to note she maintained an iron grip on her reaction, warm, polite, but not too familiar. There was something, too, in her expression as her gaze brushed over his cousin, though he could not define it. “Thank you, Agent,” he responded. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Lieutenant Kal speaks very highly of you and your organization.”

“I’m quite flattered,” she replied. She swallowed and, for the first time, Tabarin detected a crack in her outward veneer as her blue eyes grew glassy. “I know that Lieutenant Kal does not offer compliments freely.”

“Only where they are deserved, Agent.” His cousin’s voice had a rough edge to it, flicker of a smile tugging at his lips. He clenched his hands to fists at his sides. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

Adela turned to his cousin and the catch in her breath was unmistakable. Her own hand shifted forward slightly, almost of its own volition. She diverted it to the edge of her duster, instead adjusting the drape of the fabric across her torso. “And you, Lieutenant… a very great pleasure.”

Behind them, Lieutenant Temple cleared her throat. If there was a similarly glassy sheen to her eyes, it was blinked away before it could register. “I’m certain that Lieutenant Kal and Agent Emrys have a good deal to catch up on,” she began, “so perhaps I can begin your briefing, Aristocra? I think you’ll be pleased with the information I have to share.”

Serving as she did with the Defense Force, the petite officer would know that such a suggestion was something of a breach of protocol: As the ranking officer, his briefing should be delivered by Agent Emrys, herself. But she knew about the relationship between his cousin and the agent – had been present since its inception, and seemed sympathetic to the cause. He, too, was not without compassion. The sooner the two were out of view of the phalanx detail, the better. “Yes, Lieutenant, that will be more than acceptable,” he said at length. He looked to his cousin. “Once you complete your debrief, I’m certain you and Agent Emrys will join us?”

Saganu nodded. “Of course, Aristocra,” he replied.

Tabarin turned his attention back to Temple. He gestured toward the passageway from which the agent had come. “If you’ll lead the way?”

Temple cast a sideways glance to Emrys, Saganu, and then shifted her focus to the ranking Aristocra. “Certainly, sir,” she said. “We’ll commandeer the holotable in the War Room.”

Falling into step behind the female lieutenant, Tabarin clasped his hands behind his back. His cousin and Agent Emrys followed several paces behind. A glance over his shoulder revealed exceedingly neutral expressions, their arms brushing ever so slightly. The action seemed so natural, so casual anyone watching would assume it to be an accident. He knew it to be anything but – his cousin, ever the daredevil, was pushing boundaries and taking risks. _As if taking a human consort wasn’t enough,_ he thought.

They came to a halt before a large holographic projection table, several personnel hovering at stations here and there; no one noted the Chiss officer and Alliance operative as they stepped onto the lift. It began its ascent as Temple powered up the table. By the time they disappeared toward the exit, Tabarin noted, his cousin had intertwined his fingers with those of the agent.

Tabarin looked to Temple, only to find her watching him. “I thought they handled themselves well, sir,” she said quietly. “For not having seen each other in so long.”

“Yes,” Tabarin drawled, “for those who were not aware, it was an admirable charade.” He gave her a taut smile. “My initial plan was to complete our briefing prior to dismissing him. I quickly realized his control was… tenuous at best.” He paused. “He missed her. Greatly.”

“And she missed him.” Raina tapped a few commands into the console, and a terrain map of a far distant planet appeared. “It’s been hard on them both… though that’s probably an understatement.”

The liaison officer input a few more commands and the display angle changed and zoomed in on a particular area. Recognition tugged at his memory, but would not surface, displaced by his concern for the current situation. He placed his hand on her forearm. “We’re doing what we can, Lieutenant,” he said. “More than anyone here, you recognize how slowly Chiss opinion changes.”

She paused a moment before looking up at him, expression an unusual mix of surprise, appreciation, and curiosity. “I do, sir,” she replied, “and I’ve seen glaciers on Csilla that move faster.” They both smiled at that and he withdrew his hand. “Still, I know they’re grateful for the help… however long it takes.”

She flashed another smile, then directed his attention to the display, effectively changing the subject. “The Alliance has offered access to their hyper-accurate planetary surveys – including a few within Wild Space that will be of interest to the Ascendancy…”

Tabarin turned his attention to the matter at hand. His cousin’s dilemma would remain, even after their current business was concluded.


	5. Speechless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For months, she has wondered how to tell him. Now that the moment is here, she still has no idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted hot off the presses with only a quick review and minimal editing. If you see something too glaring, tag me.
> 
> Thanks to StoryKnitter for the quick review!

They walked the corridor to their joint quarters in silence, neither trusting themselves to speak. The tension between them was fraught: Fingers intertwined, her knuckles paled as she tightened her grip; shoulders creeping higher as they progressed; jaw twitching in time as she clenched her teeth. She slowed the pace as they approached their rooms, the distance between them dwindling. Finally, pausing before their door, her free hand came to rest against his elbow and he looked up. The blue eyes he knew so well were glassy, swirling with a storm of emotions he couldn’t entirely parse. There was affection and relief, certainly, as well as joy and hope. But it was the spark of fear amidst it all -- something rarely seen from his Red Flame -- that had him worried.

He offered a smile, reaching up to cradle her cheek. “Are you alright, beloved?”

“I --” Adela hesitated, drawing a deep breath. A smile flickered across her lips, warm but wavering, her fingers tightening with his once again. Her voice was low, rough, and unsteady as she stepped before him. Her free hand came to rest against his, eyes fluttering closed for a beat. “I have missed you, my darling Aristocra.”

“As I have missed you,” he replied, glancing left and right. The corridor was deserted around them. He eased forward, brushing his lips gently across hers. He spoke quietly, reverently: “My beloved wife.”

Her expression warmed, but the smile that flickered across her features could only be described as anxious. His apprehension grew. “We should step inside,” she whispered. Her gaze darted toward the security camera to her left, at the apex of the bulkhead and upper deck. “No need to provide any more entertainment than necessary.”

Saganu said nothing as she reached behind them and keyed entry. The door slid aside with the usual rumble, closing with a hiss. They had stepped in to what was nominally her side of the suite, the standard chair replaced with one slightly overstuffed and infinitely more comfortable, and the bed piled with two extra pillows -- his, pulled from his room, the bed they rarely used. Datapads were stacked on her desk, two and three high, and a cup of caf waited nearby, vacuum canister beside it. As always, the temperature had been lowered considerably, accommodating his preference after years of service on first Csilla, then Hoth.

He tugged gently on their joined hands and she stepped closer. Releasing their connection, he brought his hands to rest on her hips as hers came to rest against his chest. She did not close the gap, he noted, even when she slid her palms up to his shoulders. A rueful gleam touched at her eyes even as he opened his mouth to speak. “Will you tell me what’s wrong, beloved?”

She looked up at him, drawing a deep breath and swallowing heavily. Again, he noted the odd mix of emotions, the tension in her shoulders. “Wrong is perhaps not the _correct_ word, but things have become more… _complicated_ in your absence,” she said. “Shortly after Tabarin recalled you, I...” She stopped, inhaling and shaking her head. A nervous laugh escaped her. “For months I have wondered how to tell you. And now that moment is here, and I _still_ have no idea.”

His brow furrowed. “Adela, what --?”

“I --” She exhaled sharply. “I’m expecting.”

Her words struck him and his breath escaped him in a rush, eyes widening with the shock. “Expecting?” he echoed in a whisper. _Surely she didn’t mean…_ Confusion creased his brow as his mind struggled to catch up. “A child?”

Adela nodded. “Yes, darling. _Our_ child.”

They had discussed the possibility of children, of course. At the time, both agreed that, while they might wish for it, the prospect carried enormous personal and political risk; Adela believed the potential cost -- his family, his position, and his standing -- to be too great. Such desires would have to wait. Following Copero, he had all but resigned himself to the fact they would never bear children; that, by the time they regained the good graces of the Ascendancy and House Nuruodo, his beloved consort would be unable to do so. It seemed the galaxy itself now demanded they take that risk.

Confusion slowly gave way to surprise, chased quickly by delight and awe. He felt her hand close over his, gently guiding it over her abdomen. She placed it against a small swell, hidden beneath the loose fit of her tunic and duster. Warmth infused him and his eyes stung. Was this what it was like to cry, he wondered. He didn’t remember; he had been permitted such a show of emotion only as a small boy. As he stood before her now, their hands joined over the first physical evidence of their child, however, there were simply too many emotions to contain. The chaotic jumble overwhelmed him.

“Beloved…” His voice emerged rough, his throat tight as he struggled to find words.There were none. Shaking his head, he slipped his arm around her and drew her close, sealing his mouth over hers. As with so many other things in their relationship, he would simply have to _show_ her.

***  
  
Afternoon sun filtered through the transom windows at the back of the room, broad beams of yellow light sprawling across the opposite wall as Saganu stirred, the familiar warmth of his consort curled into his side. He revelled in the welcome weight of her head on his shoulder, the wisps of hair tickling his chest, and caress of her skin as her leg slid over his. Three months, he thought, and it might well have been an eternity. Functional and capable, but not operating at full capacity; he had become so accustomed to working with her that working without her seemed as alien as sleeping alone. A rueful smile curved his wide mouth. Before her temporary assignment to Hoth, it had been as many months between their Zeltronian rendezvous. How his life had changed…

And was about to change again, he mused. His brave, cunning, beautiful consort was pregnant. He smoothed his hand over her left arm and dropped a kiss to her silver hair. _Their child._ It still felt surreal -- as much a dream as laying here with her curled around him. Their lives forever merged in one tiny little being. Would they favor him, the dark blue skin and distinctive red eyes of his people? Or take after their mother, fair skin and blue eyes? Could the child fall somewhere in between?

He was, of course, getting ahead of himself. Any child favoring him should be taken and raised “in shadow” -- out of circulation, and instructed from a young age to take on the responsibilities of Aristocra, a standard policy he knew his consort will disagree with. A child favoring her, on the other hand, would be raised out of circulation for entirely _different_ reasons… not the least of which might be passing on her Force-sensitive heritage. While he, himself, reserved few superstitions regarding the use, he was an outlier among his people: Any Force-sensitive child they had would have to suppress or hide their ability to pass in the Ascendancy, lest they become an outcast. Such was a burden he did not wish on his child. If it came down to it, he supposed, he would prefer the child remain with the Alliance or in the Republic. At least there, they could be trained, respected, and free.

Pale fingers trailed over his abdomen and he heard her chuckle. “You’re thinking too loud, Aristocra,” she said, her voice heavy with sleep. “Credit for them?”

A soft smile tugged at his lips. “Marvelling at how our lives have changed,” he rumbled, “and imagining what our child will be like.” He swallowed back the knot that threatened, even now, as the words ‘our child’ fell from his lips. “It still feels very much like a dream.”

“Reality,” Adela began, raising her head to look at him, “will settle in soon enough, I’m sure.” Concern radiated from her blue eyes, even as her hand came to rest against his heart. “As soon as they come looking for us.”

Saganu nodded, his hand covering hers. “I am, as yet, unsure if we should speak with Tabarin,” he said. “My cousin has extended himself more than I could ever ask, from Zeltros to Copero. I’m afraid this might be a step too far.”

“That was my concern, as well. Few here beyond my family and Lieutenant Temple would understand the significance of my pregnancy.” A rueful grin curved her lips. “But Tabarin is becoming a somewhat regular visitor. I’ll only be able to conceal things for so long before my condition becomes very apparent.”

Looking down at her, he furrowed his brow. “Lieutenant Temple knows.”

Adela nodded. “As a Force sensitive, it was… more readily apparent to her.”

“Then our child -- ?”

Again she nodded, lips drawn taut. “For now, he isn’t very strong,” she said, “just a bond with me, and a bit of flutter for familiar people like Raina and my sister.” Her gaze darted briefly to their joined hands before returning to his. “I want very much for you to have an heir -- someone to inherit all your hard work. But if this is a sign of things to come, then I pray he looks like me.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Saganu released it slowly. Even in this, it seemed they were of similar minds. He shifted focus, wonder and confusion lighting his features as he regarded her. “He? You can tell already?”

“Not at first,” Adela replied. “But now, a few months on? Yes.” Her expression softened. “It’s so strange: he’s felt how anxious I’ve been about this, been concerned about telling you. But he can sense you -- knows instinctively you’re his father. It’s... “ She gave a soft chuckle as her eyes grew misty. “He’s happy to see you.”

His hand caressed down her arm, along her ribs, settling onto her abdomen, more accessible as she shifted onto her back. Warmth radiated from her, his fingers curved ever-so-slightly over the taut muscle and skin. Such a small change, he thought, and yet so apparent now -- especially to someone who knew her curves and contours as intimately as his own. “How” -- he broke off, his voice unexpectedly rough -- “how long before I’ll be able to…?”

“Another month, perhaps a bit more?” She offered him an apologetic smile. “The doctor suggested it might take longer, since this is our first.”

He nodded, then looked back to her. “Then I hope our son knows how pleased I am to see you both.” Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her lower abdomen, at the crest of the swell. His consort. His child. He held them dear -- cherished them enough to risk or even _choose_ exile for them, to be a part of their lives, to be a father and a husband. Such choices were not made in a vacuum, however, and he already knew the stance his wife held. But _they_ were also his family now and, as such, deserved as much of his duty and devotion as ever. It was as he lifted his head and opened his mouth to broach the subject that the communications console sounded an alert.

“Open communication,” Adela called into the room, “voice only.”

“Agent Emrys; Lieutenant Kal,” the petite voice of Raina Temple said, “my apologies for any interruption, but we are on our way to the cantina, and Aristocra Tabarin wondered if you might join us for dinner?”

It was his turn to offer a rueful grin. “Of course, Lieutenant,” he replied. “Agent Emrys and I can finish our debrief at a later time.”

“I’m sure he’ll be pleased to hear that.” There was a hint of humor audible, even over the comm. “We’re estimating approximately twenty minutes.”

Adela spoke up. “We’ll meet you in the cantina, then.”

“I take it all went well?”

Saganu looked to his consort and his gaze softened. “The report was a touch… _overwhelming_ , but the end result is quite promising,” he replied. “I was thrilled Agent Emrys had such good news to share.”

“I’m so glad, sir,” Temple replied. Her relief was audible, prompting a shared smile between the two. “I’ll look forward to seeing you soon. Dev out.”

The channel closed and they sat for a long moment in silence. He laid his head on her chest and Adela raked her nails through the thick mop of hair atop his head. Closing his eyes, he offered a sigh. “We should tell him,” she said at length. “He deserves that much.”

Saganu nodded slowly, then opened his eyes and shifted to look back up at her. “He does. And, if other actions are required, it will at least prepare him.”

His consort regarded him with an arched brow. “‘Other actions’?”

“Yes, beloved: Other actions.” He grimaced. “Given the current political climate, we should face the very real possibility of my… departure... from the Ascendancy.”

Adela heaved a sigh, her own lips thinning as her brow furrowed and blue eyes clouded. “Darling, we’ve discussed this. I refuse to be the reason for your exile -- voluntary or otherwise.”

“And I still maintain that you -- and now our son -- are equally as deserving of my duty and devotion,” he replied. He placed his hand flat against her heart. “You both are my family as much as my mother or Tabarin; even the rest of House Miurani. We are partners, you and I, and nothing has punctuated that reality more than the last three months we have spent apart.”

Her eyes were glassy, tears welling against her lower lashes as she looked down at him. “Saganu, I --”

He shook his head, before continuing quietly. “This time on Csilla has also shown me exactly how much I have changed -- how different I am, compared to my colleagues and kin. The rules and the double-speak; no one ever saying exactly what they mean.” A knot formed in his own throat, and he felt his vocal cords constrict as he struggled to speak. “It’s stifling, beloved, and without you -- _both_ of you, it will never be worth it.”

Nodding, Adela sighed, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. “Oh, Hells,” she whispered, swiping at them roughly. She gave a forced laugh. “Bloody hormones.”

He shifted up, leaning down and nuzzling her nose with his own, a smile curving his lips. His heart swelled with warmth and affection for this beautiful woman before him -- his friend, his partner, his consort. “It’s all right, beloved,” he murmured. He kissed her gently.

She directed her gaze at him as he drew back. There was determination mingling with the softer emotions in her eyes. “Promise me that you won’t… go looking for it? Exile should be the last resort.”

“I can’t promise, Adela,” he replied, shaking his head. His fingers tucked a stray lock of silver hair behind her ear. “I _will_ be there for you and for our son. That means I will do whatever is necessary, even if that means voluntary exile.”

There was a long pause. He watched the muscle in her jaw ticking, her eyes as her gaze swept over his features, reading his expression and the deeper connection they shared. Finally she nodded. “I’ve trusted you as I’ve trusted no one else,” she said. A soft smile twitched across her lips. “I’ll simply have to continue to do so.”

Saganu swallowed, giving his own nod. “Thank you, beloved.”

Her fingers combed through his hair. “Always.”

“With that settled,” he began, “perhaps we should prepare to meet the entourage?”

“Mmm.” A chuckle rumbled through her. “I’d prefer to stay here with you. But, to keep up a few appearances, perhaps we _should_ get cleaned up.” Her eyes twinkled as she regarded him. “If you’ll start the water...?”

A lopsided grin curved across his lips. “I doubt that will save us time.”

“I don’t care.” Adela allowed her own grin. “I’ve missed you -- and our showers.”

He dropped a kiss to the tip of her nose. “I’ll start the water.”


End file.
